robber's agent-the alehouse's benefactor-his wife's sorrow his children's trouble-his own shame-his neighbour's scoff-the picture of a beast-the monster of a man!" DR. DODD. A PLAIN MAN'S PHILOSOPHY. I'VE a guinea I can spend, I've a wife, and I've a friend, And a troop of little children at my knee, John Brown; I've a cottage of my own With the ivy overgrown, And a garden with a view of the sea, John Brown; By my shady sycamore, Large of heart, though of very small estate, John Brown; So, come and drain a glass In my arbour as you pass, And I'll tell you what I love and what I hate, John Brown. I love the song of birds, And the children's early words, And a loving woman's voice, low and sweet, John Brown; But I hate a false pretence, And a want of common sense, And arrogance, and fawning, and deceit, John Brown ; I love the meadow flowers, And the brier in the bowers, And I love an open face without guile, John Brown; But I hate a selfish knave, And a proud, contented slave, And a lout who'd rather borrow than he'd toil, John Brown. I love a simple song That awakes emotions strong, And the word of hope that raises him who faints, John Brown; And I hate the constant whine Of the foolish who repine, And turn their good to evil by complaints, John Brown; But even when I hate, If I seek my garden gate, And survey the world around me, and above, John Brown, The hatred flies my mind, And I sigh for human kind, And excuse the faults of those I cannot love, John Brown. So, if you like my ways, And the comfort of my days, I will tell you how I live so unvex'd, John Brown; I never scorn my health, Nor sell my soul for wealth, Nor destroy one day the pleasures of the next, John Brown; I've parted with my pride, And I take the sunny side, For I've found it worse than folly to be sad, John Brown ; I keep my conscience clear, I've a hundred pounds a year, And I manage to exist and to be glad, John Brown. CHARLES MACKAY. THE BUNDLE OF STICKS. A GOOD old man, no matter where, It cannot much concern the tale,— His luck was what his neighbours had, He call'd his children round his bed, way, "I wish that all of you would take it, And try if any one can break it." Obedient to the good old man, They all to try their strength began: Now boy, now girl, now he, now she, Applied the faggot to their knee; They tugg'd, and strain'd, and tried again, But still they tugg'd, and tried in vain : In vain their skill and strength exerted; The faggot every effort thwarted; 66 Again the good old man proceeded To give the instruction which they needed: Then stick by stick, and twig by twig, Following the words their father spoke, Each sprig and spray they quickly broke ; "There father!" all began to cry, "I've broken mine!-and I! and I!" Replied the sire: ""Twas my intent While you are join'd in friendship's throng, You undermine affection's root, And thus the strength'ning cord divide, |